


Enough To Drive You Crazy (If You Let It)

by liionne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, devil wears prada au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 23:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: Steve wants a job. Just - just a job. Right now, he doesn’t care if it’s a job making the paper that goes on to make newspapers, as long as it’s a job that vaguely, in some way reflects the Bachelor of Journalism that he has hanging on his wall at home. And it pays money. Enough money for him to at least be able to make his rent.So, when he gets the job at SHIELD Magazine (the most widely circulated men’s fashion magazine in the world), he’s pretty damn pleased with himself.Until he looks again at what he signed up for, and realises that, in fact, he’s just a personal assistant.Devil Wears Prada AU





	Enough To Drive You Crazy (If You Let It)

**Author's Note:**

> The Devil Wears Prada is one of my most favourite movies, so this has been a long time coming. I've unfortunately never read the book (it's on my list!) so all references etc come from the movie. The title is from the Dolly Parton song 9 to 5 (which I'm sure you knew already).

Steve wants a job. Just - just a job. Right now, he doesn’t care if it’s a job making the paper that goes on to make newspapers, as long as it’s a job that vaguely, in some way reflects the Bachelor of Journalism that he has hanging on his wall at home. And it pays money. Enough money for him to at least be able to make his rent.

So, when he gets the job at SHIELD Magazine (the most widely circulated men’s fashion magazine in the  _world_ ), he’s pretty damn pleased with himself.

Until he looks again at what he signed up for, and realises that, in fact, he’s just a personal assistant.

“Hey, man, think of it as a… paid internship.” Sam says, shrugging his shoulders as he sits across the table from Steve.

“Yeah!” Wanda chimes in, stirring her G&T with the tiny red straw they’ve given her. “Think of all the experience you’re going to get.”

“And it’s going to look fucking  _amazing_  on your resume.” Scott points out - literally, pointing at Steve with his little olive-on-a-stick (which Steve finds weird, because Scott’s drinking a beer). “Who’s going to turn down a guy who worked at SHIELD?”

Steve, who had, up until this point, wanted to dig a big hole and bury himself in it, perks up a little. “Yeah.” He says, and he nods slowly. “Yeah - it’s on-the-job learning. I’m getting paid to get experience in my field… and it might be kind of fun, right? Personal assistant to the Big Boss. People would kill for that job.”

Wanda pulls a face, opening her mouth as if to speak before she thinks better of it, and smiles. “Sure.” She nods.

That doesn’t instil too much confidence in Steve.

 

~*~

 

Regardless, the next day he rises early, and he heads to SHIELD HQ - a very tall, very fancy looking building in the very heart of New York.

It’s surrounded by high-end designer stores, expensive restaurants and other, equally tall and fancy buildings. Steve doesn’t look at any of them. He finishes his breakfast bagel and his coffee, shoulders his satchel, and heads on inside.

He goes to the reception desk in the centre of the large, open foyer. Around him, women’s heels click against the marble floor, and men in blazers and ties slip through security gates, into the awaiting elevators beyond.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers. I’m Bucky Barnes new assistant--”

The security guard behind the desk arches an eyebrow, looking him up and down. “Are you sure you’re in the right place?”

Steve frowns, hackles rising. “Yes, I’m sure, I was hired just last week. I’m his junior assistant--”

“I’ll take it from here, Rumlow.”

Steve looks to his left to a see a woman with shocking red hair set in hollywood-style curls standing by his side. When she turns to look at Steve he hears her heels tapping against the floor, and for a second, he’s kind of speechless. She’s beautiful, in a lethal sort of way.

(Which, by the way, is totally Steve’s type.)

“Rogers?” She asks, and she too looks him up and down. “Did you come here in your grandpa’s clothes?”

Steve can’t tell if she’s joking or not, but his ears turn pink regardless. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Nothing, if we’re visiting a senior centre.” She hands him an ID card, and a file. “Here’s your things. Mr. Barnes’ senior assistant, Tony, is upstairs. I’m sure he’ll help you settle in when you get there.”

“I-- I mean, is there no training, or--” Steve stammers, but Natasha is already on the move. He has to do a little jog to catch up with her, using his ID card to get through the security gates and into the elevator with her.

“Everything you need to know is in that file. Bucky’s schedule for this week, important telephone numbers, email addresses,” Natasha faces the doors, not even looking at Steve. “If you need anything else, ask Tony.”

“Right.” Steve nods. He has about two seconds to process that before the door opens, and Natasha’s off again.

They’re on the top floor, and from the floor-to-ceiling windows, Steve can see pretty much the whole of New York. If he stopped to look, he’s sure he would be able to see New Jersey, too, but he hasn’t got time to stop. For a woman in heels, Natasha moves quickly.

Steve looks away from the windows see someone stood in front of him, dressed like he’s just walked off of some kind of runway, hair perfectly coiffed, hands on his hips. He doesn’t look happy. Steve assumes that he’s Tony.

Tony looks him up and down, and - well, Steve’s kind of starting to get sick of that.  
  
“Natasha, I didn’t know it was Bring Your Grandpa To Work day.”

Steve’s really start to get ticked off.

“Tony, this is Steve. Steve is Bucky’s new junior assistant.” Natasha explains.

Tony grimaces. “Great. Another one that’s going to last five minutes.”

“Well, actually--” Steve begins, but he doesn’t get a chance.

“Look, we have a big day today and I can’t have you trailing behind, so you’re going to listen.” Tony says. Steve looks to Natasha, but she just arches her eyebrows. “Bucky is out right now, he’ll be back in fifteen minutes. You take his coat and his bag and you put them away. If he wants coffee, you get it. I’ll have his lunch order, I’ll give it to you, you go get that too. Don’t even  _think_  about touching the phone.” Tony’s eyes scream death. “If I’m not here, then you can answer it, but if I’m not here then you are shackled to that desk, understand?”

He points to the empty desk opposite his own. It’s plain, with only a computer and a telephone resting on top. The chair doesn’t look particularly comfortable.

“Well?” Tony prompts.

Steve turns back to him, and nods. “Got it.”

Tony looks to Natasha, and sighs. “This was the best HR could do?”

Natasha eyes Steve once more. “They must have seen something in him. I have to go and get the pieces for the  _Summer In Italy_  shoot. I’ll see you later.” She says this to Tony before she goes, heels quietened by the carpeted floor.

Tony looks to Steve. “What are you still doing here, Abe Simpson? Go sit down, shoo.”

Steve does as he’s told. He pinches the bridge of his nose, before following the instructions in the file Natasha give him to set up his login, and his email and things. It takes about fifteen minutes before there’s a commotion down the hall; Steve looks up to see people hurrying around, and Tony, clipboard in hand, stands up as a man walks down the hall. 

Now, Steve did do his research before he showed up today. He knows that SHIELD is the most prominent Men’s Fashion magazine in the world, and he knows that it’s success has come, largely, from one James “Bucky” Barnes. Barnes took over from his from when he was twenty one, and now, a decade on, it’s a global success. Steve has seen countless photos of Barnes at charity galas and big events, wearing suits and smiles and seemingly charming the pants off of people. It’s probably not difficult. From what Steve can tell, Bucky’s gorgeous, which seems to be a theme at this company.

Barnes walks up the corridor towards them, and Tony jogs to meet him, chattering about a call from Prada and a new contract with Cara. Steve doesn’t know who Cara is, and he doubts he’ll get a chance to ask, because when he stands to introduce himself to Bucky he gets a coat and a bag thrown at him. Barnes walks right past him without a second glance, and the glass door to his office swings shut, muting Tony’s chattering.

Well.

Steve only just has time to hang up the coat on the rack behind his desk and prop the bag up against the wall before the door opens again, and Tony looks down at him.

“He wants to see you.”

Fuck.

 

~*~

 

Steve edges into Bucky’s office, and Tony makes sure to shut the door behind him. Steve expects Barnes to say something, but he’s looking down, writing something and signing it with a flourish. Steve doesn’t know what’s going on, but after almost a minute of silence, he clear his throat.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky looks up like he’s only just noticed that Steve is there. He looks at him curiously, and Steve tries to keep his expression blank, even though he’s studying Barnes in the exact same way. Dark hair swept into a neat knot, not a hair out of place, and eyes that seem more tired than anything else, but steely all the same.

“You the new guy?” He asks.

Steve nods, and then thinks better of it. “Yes, sir. First day.”

Barnes nods, and studies Steve for a moment longer. “This is the job a million young men and women would kill for-- what did you say your name was again?”

“Uh, I didn’t. Steve Rogers.” Steve says, and smiles.

Barnes doesn’t smile back. “We’ll call this week a trial week. Some people aren’t suited to this job. If you can’t keep up, you’ll be dropped. Don’t disappoint me.”

He looks back down at whatever form he was filling in, and Steve blinks. He stands there for a moment longer, until Bucky looks up at him. “Why are you still here?”

Steve mumbles some kind of apology, and he leaves, all but running as he goes.

 

~*~

 

The next day, he wakes up to a text. It’s from an unknown number, but it reads:

_ grande sugar free cinnamon soy latte, tall half sweet non fat caramel macchiato, venti iced double pump hazelnut skinny latte, three double espressos, 20 mins. _

Steve groans, and looks at his alarm clock. It’s only just gone seven am. Technically, he doesn’t have to be at work for another two hours. But then he remembers that he’s still only in a trial period, and that he really likes having a roof over his head, so he hauls himself out of bed and to the bathroom.

When he picks up his phone again, he has another message. He’s assuming it’s from Tony.

don’t forget your bus pass, grandpa

Steve sighs, and heads out of the door.

 

~*~

 

It takes Steve about half an hour to run to Starbucks, rush through the crowds, get to the office and then get upstairs. Thankfully, he doesn’t spill any coffee on his slacks as he goes, something that he’s grateful for.

But he’s still late. And late is not good.

Tony takes the macchiato and the hazelnut latte, and one of the espressos. “You better take them in there - I’m not associating myself with this in any way.”

That doesn’t bode well for Steve. He swallows thickly, and knocks on the office door. Bucky looks up, and Steve takes his arched eyebrow as a signal to enter.

“You’re late.”

Steve gapes a little. “I, um, I wasn’t expecting--”

“I thought I asked you _not_  to disappoint me.” Bucky interrupts, taking the coffees from Steve. He drinks one espresso, and then the other, and then takes a sip of the latte. “And go and see Natasha about getting some new clothes. She’ll help you out, until your paycheck comes in.”

Steve’s brow furrows. “But I--”

“I haven’t got time to sit here and argue with you, Stiles.”

“It’s Steve.”

Bucky levels him with a look that could shatter glass. “Get out.”

Steve spins on his heel, and he goes. He fumes for the rest of the day.

 

~*~

 

Steve goes to see Natasha, who apparently already got the memo that the big boss think that Steve needs new clothes.

She has a pile of things, shirts and t-shirts and jeans and shoes, and she keeps pulling things off of racks, flitting around the wardrobe like a hummingbird. Steve would be impressed, if he wasn’t still seething.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it.” She says, when Steve is done ranting. “And even if it does, what does it matter? You were late.”

“I didn’t know I was going to get called to arms at 7am.” Steve mutters.

“Well now you do. You may start at 9, officially, but you don’t. You should be here at 7am. Remember that, from now on. And he orders the same thing every day, so remember that too.” Natasha says.

Steve is still moping, toeing the carpet with the tip of his apparently very unfashionable shoe.

“Look.” Natasha says, hands on her hips. “If you don’t like it, if he’s too mean and he’s hurt your feelings, you know where the door is. He can be an asshole, but he has his reasons, and he’s a good boss if he trusts you. The pay’s good and the benefits are better. I’m about to give you about $3000 worth of clothing, because he told me to, and you don’t have to pay a dime. You’ll work an extra 5 hours a day, but the overtime pay is amazing. Most people would kill for this job for the opportunity to work with Bucky Barnes. Do you read SHIELD?”

Steve’s ears turn red. “No.”

“No. Didn’t think so.” Natasha says. “So you couldn’t give a rat’s ass about working for Barnes, right? Then do it for the multitude of benefits.”

She moves Steve over to the floor length mirror in the corner of the wardrobe, and begins holding shirts up against him. “Some of these might not fit. Lord knows, Rogers, you have the body of a greek god.” Steve blushes even more. “But now idea how to style it. Start reading SHIELD.” Natasha allows Steve a smile, then, and he feels a little better. “I think you’ll catch on.”

 

~*~

 

At the end of the week, Barnes calls Steve into his office again.

Steve bought this month’s edition of SHIELD, and he’s been reading it before bed - because that’s now pretty much the only free time that he has. Which is fine. Yeah. Totally cool.

He tries his best to pair the clothes Natasha gave him together, using the magazine for inspiration. He nips into her department before he heads to his desk, to make sure he has her approval, and usually, he does.

He rises early, and gets the coffees, the same order every morning. He tries to be smart about it, ordering ahead and picking up when he gets there. By the end of the week, he feels like he has the whole thing cracked.

Bucky’s face as he enters the room suggests otherwise.

“It’s been quite a week.” Bucky says. Steve wants to snort at that remark, but he doesn’t. He just smiles.

Bucky pauses, looking him up and down. His lips quirk up in what might be a smile, and Steve thinks that maybe, just maybe, he approves. “I have one last challenge for you. Tony is waiting here for a phone call, but I need someone to come with me to the Natural History Museum. We’re thinking of using it as a location for a shoot, so I’m taking some of the models there to check out the lighting and things. You’re coming with me.”

“I - I am?” Steve was pretty sure that his job didn’t involve field trips, but he isn’t going to argue.

Bucky stands. “Needless to say, your future here depends on this trip. Coat and bag.”

Steve blinks, not sure how that last part fits in, before he realises it’s a request. “Oh!” He turns to go and grab them, and he thinks he might hear Bucky snicker as he does so. Jeez. A smile and a laugh in the space of five minutes. “Here.” He says, returning with Bucky’s coat and bag (a portfolio bag - Steve knows that because it was in last month’s issue).

When they’re ready, they set off, Bucky leading and Steve trailing a few steps behind. Tony looks at them both like he’s about to have a stroke. Natasha smirks as they walk past, winking at Steve. He assumes it’s meant for good luck, and so he smiles back at her.

In the car, Bucky looks out of the window. Steve doesn’t. Steve shuffles through the papers he’s been given, and gets a notebook and a pen ready, because he has a feeling he’s going to have to take notes.

“I noticed you went to see Natasha.” Bucky says, and it’s almost conversational.

Steve blinks. “I did.” He says. The _you told me to_ goes unspoken.

“Did you put that outfit together yourself?” Bucky asks, looking over at him, and Steve blushes. He doesn’t know if Bucky means it in a good way or a bad way, and he gives a nervous sounding laugh.

“I, well, yes, but I mean, I’m kinda new to the fashion thing, so--”

“It’s a good look.” Bucky says. Steve’s blush has now spread from his ears, to his cheeks, and then right down his neck. He hates it. But thankfully, Bucky isn’t looking. “It’s a little Fall 2015,” He adds, gaze lingering out of the window. “But it’s not bad.”

Well. That’s as close to a compliment as they’re going to get, isn’t it?

At the museum, Steve continues to trail along behind Bucky, scribbling notes as he goes. The models follow, posing in various locations and in various ways, and they don’t give Steve a second glance. He doesn’t mind; he’s kind of transfixed on Bucky, now.

Because before, Steve had been prepared to hate him, but continue to work for him. He had been ready to just go home every day and meet his friends for a drink and rant about his piece of shit boss, the guy who thinks he’s a king, the one who judges people without even knowing their name.

But now he knows that Bucky has some kind of heart, and that he can be sort of nice, when he wants to be. It’s a backhanded kind of nice, but nice all the same.

It’s dangerous, because it warms Steve to him, and Steve has a bad habit for falling for people like that.

He’s not going to do that this time, though. No - he’s going to be professional. He’s going to keep his head down, and work hard, and he’s going to--

“Steve, come over here.”

Bucky gestures for him to come over to where the models are standing. They’re Generic Pretty Boys, as far as Steve can see, but he hasn’t spoken to any of them yet. They all seem pretty professional, trying their best to pose even though no one’s taking photographs, and Steve can respect that.

It’s probably why they seem so irked when Bucky moves them aside so he can stand Steve in their place.

“Give him that clipboard.” Bucky nods to one of the models, and after a moment’s hesitation, Steve hands over his things. He looks to Bucky again. “Hands in your pockets.” He says to Steve, who does as he’s told. “Now turn to the side.”

Steve has never before posed for anything, other than his prom photos, and more recently his graduation photos. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he can feel Bucky’s eyes on him, watching him. Steve’s not sure anyone has ever paid him so much mind before, and it’s scary. His skin feels like it’s on fire, like Bucky’s gaze is burning a hole right through him.

And just like that, it’s over. Bucky turns to talk to the museum director, and that intense little moment is over. Steve takes back his clipboard and notepad back from a very flustered looking model, and moves over to Bucky’s side.

“We’re done here.” He says to Steve, gesturing for him to follow. The car is still waiting outside, and Bucky slips in first, gesturing for the driver to go just as soon as Steve has shut the door.

There’s silence for a long moment before Bucky looks at him, and says, “You’ve done better than I thought you would. HR gave me your resume, for me to look over before they hired you. I gave them my approval because you seemed a lot smarter than some of the people who sit behind that desk - and believe me, there’s been a lot of them in the past few years.”

Steve is starting to wonder if his research wasn’t a little bit spotty. All of his research told him that Barnes was a great guy to work for and in general, a schmoozer, life and soul of the party. But Steve knows from experience that he can be mean when he wants to be, and a high turnover of employees seems like more of a problem with the boss than with the staff.

“Keep up the good work.” Bucky says, once again looking to the window, a sign that their conversation is drawing to a close. “I’d like to see you do well at SHIELD.”

 

~*~

 

After that, Steve’s career at SHIELD does seem to do pretty well. Sure, he still has to do all of the grunt work, getting Bucky’s coffees and his lunches and all of the rest of it, but it seems that their day trip to the museum was a success. Steve gets invited on more and more little excursions, with Tony left behind to man the desks. Tony assumes it's because he's the only one trusted enough to use the phone, and, to be honest, Steve kind of assumes that that’s why too. Why else would Bucky choose to take out the new employee rather than the one who’s worked for him for the past two years?

They still have bad days. Bucky will come in and be moody as hell three days out of five, and though Steve expects it, he’s always thrown for a loop. One day his coffee isn’t hot enough, the next he hasn’t gotten any reply from an email he sent that morning, why hasn’t Steve chased it up? Steve, one day, accidentally snorts when a stylist holds up two jumpers in the exact same shade of blue, and Barnes looks at him like he wants to rip his head off.

But Steve is still learning, and on the good days, when Bucky is nothing but nice to him and compliments him on today’s outfit choice (within a few months, Steve decides to splurge on a Versace shirt. The first day he wears it, Bucky looks him up and down in a way that would make anyone blush, and tells him well done. Tony is _furious_.), he can’t help but feel like he did before, softening to him. Whenever he’s being yelled at or glared at or whatever, he just remembers Bucky’s soft, approving smile, and reminds himself that it’s temporary.

Bucky Barnes is hard work, that much is for sure, but Steve is also pretty sure that he’s worth it.

 

~*~

 

Things get a little bit easier when Bucky leaves for a little while, with Tony in tow. They’re going to LA, to some kind of fashion show, and apparently Tony is going because:

“I know everyone that’s going to be there already, and I’ve been before. And I have style. You’re getting there, grandpa, but you’re not quite there yet.”

Steve can live with that. No one really calls the office, but when they do Steve picks up, because of course, Tony - King of the Telephone - isn’t there to do it. Other than that, though, he hangs around with Natasha, he reads old editions of the magazine. It’s a pretty easy few days.

 

~*~

 

“Okay, I have an announcement.” Wanda says one night at the bar.

Steve, Sam and Scott turn to look at her. She beams at them in that giddy way she has when she’s excited.

“I have a gallery. Someone actually wants to show my photographs. Like a collection. Where people can buy the prints. Isn’t that amazing!?”

The three of them burst into cheers, each moving around the table so that they can hug their friend. Wanda had been doing wedding photography and birthday parties for quite a while now - Steve’s glad that she’s finally made a break.

“It’s opens next Saturday, and it’ll be there for a week, or longer if it’s really popular.” She explains. “On opening night we’re going to have a party, so--”

She’s interrupted by Steve’s phone ringing, and he gives an apologetic wince when he sees that it’s Bucky calling. He excuses himself, moving to just outside the bar. It’s well past working hours, but Steve wouldn’t dare miss a call from his boss. He’s only just picked up the phone when he hears Bucky’s voice.

“Steve, at last, christ-- I’ve been trying to get in touch with Tony for a half hour, the man’s useless.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that, but he has a feeling that Bucky isn’t done, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“My car has broken down - I need you to come pick me up, I can’t be late.”

“I don’t have a car.” Steve says. “I can give you a cab number--”

“Jesus, no, just get a car. Get a car, and then come and pick me up. I’ll text you the address.”

He hangs up, and Steve groans. Luckily he hasn’t yet taken a sip from the bottle of beer sat at his seat at the table, so he _can_  drive, it’s just a question of what.

Back at the table, he acts as apologetic as he can. “That was Bucky. I have to go.”

“What?” Wanda asks, looking up at him.

Scott looks at his watch. “Christ, Steve, it’s like 7--”

“I know, I know.” Steve says, shouldering his bag. “Wanda, I will be at your opening, scout’s honour. And one of you can have my beer. Last man standing, Wanda, make sure you film the fight.”

Steve leaves, but he doesn’t think they appreciated his attempt at humor.

 

~*~

 

It takes Steve approximately forty-five minutes to get a car, and then to get to Bucky’s location. Traffic is heavy in the centre of the city, and by the time he gets to him, Bucky is pissed.

“Where’s the meeting at?” Steve asks.

Bucky scowls. “I’ve missed the meeting. It started half an hour ago. Just take me home.”

Steve doesn’t move. Bucky looks out of the window, and so Steve assumes he has to prompt him again. He clears his throat. “Where is home?”

Bucky sighs. “Just drive.” he snaps. “I’ll direct you.”

They drive in silence. At first Steve has the radio on, but Bucky turns it off, pinching the bridge of his nose. Steve doesn’t know what to say, and he doesn’t want to make small talk, but-- well, he kind of does. He and Bucky are sort of friends, right? On his good days?

“I’m sorry for being late.”

“It’s fine.” Bucky mutters. “The meeting can be rescheduled. I just really-- I wanted to make that one.”

“I take it it’s important.” Steve says slowly, to which Bucky huffs. “What is it?”

Bucky glares at him for a second, but then he softens, like he’s tired of being angry. “The board want to send my nephew to Paris Fashion Week instead of me, because I dared to turn 30, and now they’re looking to replace me.”

Steve frowns, brow furrowing. “But you’re the only reason the company’s doing so well.”

“I know that. So do they. But they always want the younger model.” He sighs. “Wait until I turn 40, then they’re really be on me.”

Steve looks across at Bucky, and wonders what he can say, what he can do, to make him feel better. He supposes, nothing. But his mouth, not getting the memo, says: “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re looking good, for thirty. I’m sure you’ll be looking good for forty, too.”

Bucky looks over at him, gaze lingering on him for a long moment. He smiles a little as he turns away again. “It’s a left here.”

At his house, Bucky goes to get out, and then he stops, his hand on the door handle. “Thank you, Steve.”

Steve gives a little nod. “My pleasure.” He murmurs.

Bucky looks at him in that curious, lingering way, and then he leaves. He doesn’t glance back. Steve still waits for him to get inside, though.

 

~*~

 

Tony is on a juice cleanse.

He tells Steve this when Steve asks why he’s slumped over his desk in the middle of the day.

“I haven’t eaten solid food in about five days.” He says. “Juice, three times a day, and a protein shake before and after I work out - which I’ve been doing even more, now that it’s so close.”

“Now that what’s so close?” Steve asks. Steve, blessed with a fast metabolism, doesn’t need to work out, and is currently sitting at his desk eating a pasta salad for lunch.

“The gala.” Tony says, looking up at Steve and squinting. “I thought I told you to memorise the schedule for the next three months? It’s the SHIELD Annual Charity Gala, and then it’s Paris. We’re _busy_ , Steven.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but Tony continues. “I want to be lean, and I want to be toned. Which I can only do through juice and protein.” He insists. Steve doesn’t argue, just continues to eat his pasta.

 

~*~

 

He manages to make it to Wanda’s gallery opening, and he’s only, like, ten minutes late. There are already a good crowd of people milling around, though, looking at each of the photographs in turn. Wanda greets him with a smile, and Steve stoops to embrace her.

“Hey! Look at this - fancy.” he grins.

Wanda shrugs, but she’s flushed with excitement. “It’s pretty great, for my first one. Take a glass of champagne, and start at that end -- it’s a journey through New York, it’s a story if you see it how I designed it.”

He promises her that he will, and grabs a glass of champagne as he heads to the beginning of the route. He only gets a few photographs in when he sees a very familiar profile. He moves over to Bucky, leaving just an inch of space between them.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky turns to look at him, glass of champagne in one hand, the other in the pocket of his very stylish and well-tailored suit. He looks at Steve, a little bit taken aback. “I could say the same to you. I didn’t think you were the gallery type.”

“My friend is the photographer.” Steve explains, and shrugs.

Bucky smiles. “She’s good.”

They both stand looking at the photo in front of them, silent for a moment. After a second, Bucky turns and looks at Steve again, a curious smile on his face. “Why were you surprised?” He asked.

“Well - I mean, Wanda’s amazing, but she’s hardly famous.” Steve says. “I just… I didn’t think you mingled with the commoners.” He finishes, just hoping that he’ll find it funny.

And, amazingly, he does. Bucky laughs, ever so softly, and looks at his shoes before meeting Steve’s gaze. “Believe it or not, I do, actually associate with people and places that are worth less than a million dollars.”

“You are _not_ worth a million dollars.” Steve says, somewhat astonished.

“No, I’m not. I’m worth a hundred million.” Bucky counters.

For a second, Steve stands in stunned silence. And then he cracks up, and Bucky laughs too, the two of them leaning into each other.

They go round the rest of the exhibit together, chatting about the photographs and a lot of other pieces as they go. It’s nice, and it’s weird (Bucky is his _boss_ , he remembers every so often), but it’s mostly fun. Really fun.

In the end, Bucky has to go - he gets a phone call that leads to him having to leave, and Steve says goodbye. It takes approximately five seconds for Sam to approach him after.

“You two were getting pretty pally there.” He says, eyebrows arched.

Steve’s ears turn red, but he tries to be nonchalant, shrugging. “He was in a good mood.”

“I think a certain someone puts him in a good mood.” Sam grins.

Steve rolls his eyes. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to congratulate the artist.”

“I’ll come with you.” he grins. “Your boyfriend can’t join us?”

“Sam!” He exclaims, but he laughs as they make their way over to Wanda.

 

~*~

 

Steve checks his emails. Six months after getting the job at SHIELD, he has an email from the Daily Bugle, and they want to see him for an interview. He almost declines, thinking about Bucky, but then he remembers that he hasn’t actually written anything in the six months he’s been at the magazine, and it doesn’t look like he ever will.

What was meant to be experience has been a lesson in patience, and Steve - well, he likes working for Bucky (read: he likes _Bucky_ ) but it’s not practical, career-wise, is it?

He attends the interview in his lunch break one day, and turns off his phone.

The interviewer has his sample writing in front of him. “Your resume is outstanding, Mr. Rogers, and your references were more than complimentary. But we have noticed that you’re in the current employ of Mr. Barnes, over at SHIELD Magazine. Seems like a step back from professional journalism, doesn’t it?”

Steve gives a somewhat wry smile. “It’s a new experience, certainly.”

“So, what keeps you there?” The interviewer asks.

Steve shifts in his seat. “The job has its benefits, but I was aware when I took it that it was temporary.”

The interviewer gives a small nod, and thanks Steve for his time. He says they’ll be in touch.

 

~*~

 

The SHIELD charity gala is only a few night away, but Steve isn’t too worried about it. He doesn’t really have anything to do with it - Tony has warned him that it’s his night and that he’s organising it, just like he’ll be organising Paris, so Steve can hang back and just look pretty, the only thing he’s good at. Steve takes that as a compliment, and leaves him to it.

But when he gets to work the Thursday before the Gala (happening in approximately 60 hours, according to the timer on Tony’s desk) Tony isn’t there. And Tony is usually _always_  at work before Steve is, so Steve knows that there’s something wrong.

He looks to Natasha. “Have you seen him?” He asks. She shakes her head.

“Maybe he finally cracked, and moved to somewhere tropical.” She says. “Or maybe he fainted. I’m not sure he remembers what real food tastes like.”

Steve winces, but he doesn’t have a chance to continue probing her. The elevator doors open, and Bucky approaches. “Steve, with me.”

Steve follows him into his office, and Bucky lets the door swing shut. Bucky sits down behind his desk, and looks at Steve. “Tony got hit by a car this morning.”

“Jesus.” Steve blurts out. “Is he okay?”

“He’s got a broken leg, but he’s fine. More irritated than anything else, according to the nurse.” Bucky says. “But it means he can’t go to the gala with me on Saturday, and I needed him there. Now I need you there.”

“I don’t - I mean I don’t know what it’s about, I don’t have a suit--” Steve stammers, but Bucky holds up a hand, quietening him.

“The file is in Tony’s desk drawer, and Natasha can help you with a suit. I’ll have the car pick you up at 7 on Saturday.” Bucky says, and turns away.

Steve knows that’s his cue to leave, but. “I thought it starts at 7?”

“Yeah.” Bucky nods. “But we’re going to be fashionably late. Now go on - you have some studying to do.”

Steve huffs, but he goes and retrieves the file from Tony’s drawer. As nervous as he is, he’s actually kind of excited. A fancy gala? There are worse work commitments.

The file contains a full schedule of the evening, from arriving to leaving, a copy of Bucky’s speech, and a Who’s Who of guests - their photographs, their names, what company they own or represent, and how they know Bucky. There must be a hundred people in there, if not more.

And Steve has to remember them all within the next 60 hours.

He groans, scrubbing his hand over his face. He checks his email, procrastinating for just a second, and sees one from The Daily Bugle.

_ Dear Mr. Rogers, _

_ After your interview last week we would like to offer you a position at the Bugle. We understand that you have work commitments, and will need to work a notice period. Please give us a call at your earliest convenience. _

_ We look forward to hearing from you, _

_ Betty Brant _

Fuck.

 

~*~

 

Steve is waiting outside his building for the car, dressed in the suit Natasha had for him. She must have had his measurements or something because the thing fits like a glove, and he feels pretty damn swanky.

Bucky, too, is looking amazing, and Steve has to try not to gawp. He has the binder in his lap, and he looks over it, pretending to busy himself.

“You scrub up well.” Bucky says, by way of greeting. He looks Steve over, and signals for the driver to move. “Got that thing memorised?”

“I think so.” Steve nods. Bucky arches an eyebrow. “I know so.” Steve corrects himself.

Bucky smiles. “Good.”

When they step out of the car and onto the carpet, the camera flashes almost blind Steve. He follows Bucky, reminding himself that he doesn’t need to look good, he just has to make it up the stairs.

Inside it’s a lot of mingling and a lot of schmoozing, which Bucky is good at once he’s remembered who he’s talking to. A few of them he gets on his own, but some of them he has to be reminded of. Steve, thankfully, has the binder safely tucked away in his memory, and can supply names and links within a few seconds. He feels like a computer, but it’s kind of nice.

Steve sits at the table beside Bucky during the meal, and then whilst some fashion guru Bucky hired to host the gala makes an introductory speech. “Are you nervous?” Steve whispers.

“Absolutely not.” Bucky says, and he grins as his name is called. Jumping up, he gives a few waves, and heads to the podium.

“Thank you, thank you.” He says, the crowds growing quiet. “First things first, I’d like to thank all of you for being here tonight - this year’s proceeds are going to Turtle Triage, they’re a wonderful charity doing some really good work around the world, saving the lives of many animals in particularly dangerous areas.”

Applause breaks out. Steve has the speech memorised too, so he doesn't bother to look at it as Bucky speaks.

“And as you know, we usually use this gala as an opportunity to make our next big announcement. Two years ago we announced that we would be circulating in Asia, and last year we announced that we would be hosting New York fashion week. This year, I have an announcement that’s even more exciting. I would like to announce that I will officially be bringing my nephew, Scott Proctor, on board--”

This is _not_  in the script in Tony’s file. The entire room seems to be holding its breath.

“To run SHIELD UK. Our London team are losing their editor in a few months, and I think it would be an excellent experience for him.” Bucky finishes, and smiles. “A round of applause, for him.”

After a slight pause there’s a small round of applause, and Bucky gives the crowd a charming smile. “Now, I won’t keep you all any longer - enjoy the night, take part in the silent auction, and I hope to speak to you all at some point. Thank you.”

He leaves, stepping down from the stage and grabbing a glass of champagne, slipping out of a day at the side of the stage.

Steve, of course, follows.

The door leads down a corridor and eventually to a balcony, where Bucky is looking down at the New York traffic. He looks up when he sees Steve, and gives a small smile. “I wondered how long it would take you.”

“That wasn’t the original plan.” Steve says.

“No,” Bucky agrees. “It wasn’t. But they were going to push me out if i didn’t do something, so I’ve bought myself a good few years of time. Scott will leave for London in a week or two, and I’ll head to Paris. Better for both of us.” Steve gapes. Bucky rolls his eyes. “It’s a good opportunity for him, I didn’t do this to spite him. He couldn’t run this company, not yet, but if he goes and runs the UK division, he might just prove himself.”

“So you didn’t do this for totally selfish reasons.” Steve says, smiling a little as he moves over to Bucky, leaning against the stone balcony.

“No, I didn’t.” He says. He smiles a little. “I had to leave, though. Let it die down for a little. Will you keep me company?”

“Of course.” He murmurs.

“This job--” Bucky says, and he sighs softly. “This job drives people away, Steve. I was honestly surprised, when you said that gallery opening was for your friend. I was amazed that you still had friends. I know Tony didn’t, after six months.”

Steve’s face twist a little. “Bucky--”

“It’s a good job, though, if you can get it.” Bucky seems to be building up to something. “It’s an amazing job, and six months working for me will get your foot in the door at any fashion publication in the world, and any other kind of publication in the country. It’s serious business, Steve--”

Steve is starting to feel sick. He hasn’t called the woman from the Daily Bugle yet, but he knows he’ll have to, soon. “Bucky--” He tries again, but Bucky keeps talking.

“No, just listen. It’s serious business, and we have to be professional, and that means not making friends, but - well, i think you might be the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in a long time. I haven’t been close to a person in years, and now I just-- I just--”

He grabs Steve by the lapels of his jacket and pull him forward, kissing him hard. Steve melts against him after a moment, kissing him back hungrily. After a second, Bucky pulls back, breathing a little heavily.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months.” he murmurs. “But we can’t - it’s unprofessional, we can’t--”

“It’s okay.” Steve murmurs, and smiles. He’s close to Bucky, their foreheads touching. “I think I’m quitting.”

“What?” Bucky frowns, pulling back to look at Steve a little.

Steve smiles sheepishly. “I have a job offer from the Bugle. They want me to write for them.”

“Huh.” Bucky murmurs. He flattens his palm against Steve’s chest, rubbing softly. “So this is okay, then.”

“Sure is.” Steve grins, pulling Bucky back in for another long, deep kiss.

 

~*~

 

Steve has never been to Paris before. He likes it. He still remembers French from school, so exploring the city is easy, even if he gets a little lost sometimes and has to consult google maps. He finds his way to the restaurant and takes his seat. He’s a few minutes late, but it doesn’t matter, because the table is empty.

A minute later he stands, smiling at Bucky as he approaches. He kisses him briefly, a soft peck on the lips. He looks flustered, shrugging out of his blazer and sweeping his hair back out of his face. He’s wearing it down today, at Steve’s request.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late, the Chanel show ran over--”

“It’s fine.” Steve murmurs, taking his hand over the table. “I got lost, so I was late too.”

Bucky smiles, settling a little at that. Steve grins. “You can still make it up to me, though.” He says, pulling his hand back and pretending to read the menu.

“Oh?” Bucky asks, arching his eyebrows. “And how’s that?”

“Trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower tomorrow?” Steve says. “At night, though - I want to see Paris all lit up.”

Bucky hums, considering his own menu. “Well, I don’t know… I think I can make it happen.”

Steve grins at him as Bucky takes his hand, kissing his knuckles softly. “Anything for you, love.” He says, more serious now.

Steve grins even as he gives the waiter his order, and all the way through lunch too. He’s never been to Paris before, but boy does he love it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments, questions and prompts can be left below or over at [my tumblr](http://liibxrte.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> For those of you keeping up with my past lives fic [lost love (sweeter when it's finally found)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11388546) I'd like to thank you for your patience! I've been very busy the past few weeks (I wrote this work a wee while ago) but I'm working on the second to last chapter now, and it (hopefully) shouldn't be long.
> 
> Thanks again!


End file.
